


Bedazzled

by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Crack, F/F, Femslash, Get Together, Humour, Pranks, Revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 21:25:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2083671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel/pseuds/TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Clint is a jerk, Natasha is secretly a sci-fi nerd, and Darcy knows that a Bedazzler is the best form of revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bedazzled

**Author's Note:**

> _Because I wanted cracky light-hearted Darcy/Natasha._

Darcy was hanging out in the communal kitchen looking for Thor's pop-tart stash when Natasha went stalking past the kitchen doorway, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a black bra. Darcy was used to seeing the Avengers in various states, by now, but even so, this was a first.

Darcy couldn’t help staring as her higher brain functions shut down for a second, because while Darcy was mostly into dudes, she was willing to admit that she was at the right point on the Kinsey Scale to find Natasha devastatingly attractive at the best of times. And Natasha sans shirt was even more… distracting than usual.

Darcy blinked, and realised that only a couple of seconds or so had passed. She walked over to the doorway and peered into the hallway.

“Hey!” Darcy called out, and Natasha came to a stop. Her expression was murderous, but Darcy’s curiosity won out over self-preservation.

“So uh, I kind of hate to ask, considering you’re wearing your murder face, but why are you walking around shirtless?”

Natasha’s answer was a single word, spoken with deadly intent.

“Clint,” she said, as though that explained everything,

It kind of did. Clint had already pranked Darcy twice, and while she’d gotten him back both times, that still didn’t seem to have dissuaded him from pranking her.

Darcy winced.

“Ooh, he decided to prank you? That sucks. You want some help getting him back?”

Natasha stopped where she was, and turned to give Darcy an appraising look. Darcy did her best to look competent and helpful.

Probably she failed.

Still, whether her attempt worked or not, Natasha didn’t seem to find anything amiss, because she said,

“If you want to help. But first, do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

Allowing her eyes to flicker over Natasha’s figure, Darcy considered the question.

“Sure, although it’s likely to be a little big across the bust, so I hope that’s not a problem.”

“That’s fine, I just need a shirt.”

“Okay, then follow me,” said Darcy, heading for her quarters. Natasha followed silently, padding after Darcy without making a sound.

If Harry Potter were real then Natasha’s animagus form would so be a panther, Darcy decided. Natasha reminded her of a panther in _so many ways_.

“Do you have any preferences for colour or style, or anything? I have t-shirts, scoop-necks –”

“A t-shirt will do,” Natasha interrupted.

“Okay then,” said Darcy, unlocking the door to her rooms and walking inside.

Natasha followed her in, looking around curiously.

“I’ll be right back,” Darcy promised, and vanished into her bedroom to grab a clean un-crumpled shirt from her wardrobe. Going through the clothes on their hangers, Darcy looked at and dismissed several pop-culture tees before, all of a sudden, she found one that was _perfect_. With a grin, she rejoined Natasha in the living room.

“So, how do you feel about this shirt?” Darcy asked, holding it up for Natasha to see.

Natasha looked at the shirt. Then she looked at Darcy.

“A _Terminator_ t-shirt?” she asked, but her lips were upturned, just a little. Darcy tossed her the shirt. Natasha caught it easily.

“ _The Terminator_ is classic,” Darcy argued, as Natasha pulled the shirt on. “I could write, like, an essay on _The Terminator_ series as a formative experience in the development of contemporary sci-fi in film–”

“I wasn’t arguing with you,” said Natasha. “This is a good shirt.”

“Yeah?” Darcy gave her a suspicious look, but Natasha seemed sincere.

“Sure. I like classic sci-fi movies.” Natasha looked down at the shirt she was wearing appreciatively.

Darcy relaxed, losing her defensiveness.

“Me too,” she told Natasha. “Especially some of the weird eighties stuff, right?”

“Like _War Games_ ,” Natasha supplied.

“Yes! Or _Short Circuit!_ I loved _Short Circuit_ as a kid.”

Natasha smiled at Darcy, and Darcy tried not to have any embarrassing reactions, like swooning.

“Anyway,” said Darcy, because dear God, if Natasha kept smiling at her like that Darcy was going to do something stupid. “What happened to your shirts, if you don’t mind my asking?”

The smile vanished, replaced by a dark expression.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Darcy accepted that with a nod. “So, obviously you need to find out exactly what Clint’s done before you can punish him for his transgression.”

Natasha gave Darcy a fleeting glance, as though trying to figure out a puzzle.

“I’m glad you understand the situation.”

“Maybe we should check the common area,” Darcy suggested, “just in case one of the others knows something.”

“Hmm.” Natasha looked thoughtful. “Your logic is sound. Come on, let’s go question the others.”

The combined living area/media room that all the Avengers shared proved to be empty but for Tony, who was playing around with something on his tablet. He didn’t look up as they entered the room, muttering to himself as he worked.

“Tony.”

It took a few seconds for the word to register in Tony’s brain, but after a moment Tony looked up, realising that someone had called his name.

“Yo, Tony, ‘sup,” Darcy greeted him.

“The sky, usually,” Tony replied, and blinked at the sight of the shirt Natasha was wearing. “You know, Natasha, never have I seen you wear a shirt that was so truly you.”

“Shut up and answer my question, Stark,” Natasha said, but she was smiling slightly. “Do you have any idea what Clint’s done with my shirts?”

Tony blinked, a look of epiphany crossing his face.

“I wondered where those came from,” he muttered. “Uh, I think Legolas used them to rappel over the balcony onto the Avengers Tower sign?”

Natasha’s murderous expression reappeared.

“I’m going to kill him,” she said calmly.

“That seems fair,” Tony said, watching her warily. “But no collateral damage, right?”

Natasha snorted, and stalked out to the balcony without another word. Darcy followed.

Sure enough, tied to the balcony railing, was a ‘rope’ made out of a bunch of t-shirts all braided together. Darcy leaned out over the balcony railing, trying to see if Clint was still on the Avengers Tower sign, but the angle was too steep for her to tell.

Natasha was looking at her shirts with an expression that was kind of frightening and arousing in equal measures. If Darcy had any doubt that Clint actually had rappelled over the balcony using Natasha’s shirts, it was gone the moment she got a good look at them; the fabric was stretched and several seams had popped. Basically, Natasha’s entire collection of shirts was ruined. Darcy was pretty sure that even Natasha's pyjamas were caught up in there.

Natasha said something angry and murderiffic in Russian.

“Some of those are designer, aren’t they?” Darcy asked rhetorically, recognising the labels on some of the shirts. “Should we get Tony to order Clint's coffin already?”

“No,” said Natasha, “I’m going to kill him slowly.”

Darcy patted her shoulder sympathetically.

“You know there’s only one course of action you can take, right? The Bedazzler.”

Natasha gave Darcy a look that was confused, somewhere under the expression of cold rage.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“You’ve never heard of the Bedazzler?” Darcy could feel an evil grin taking over her face, but didn’t bother trying to conceal it. “Oh, this is going to be great. Come on, I’ll show you.”

“Just let me grab my shirts,” said Natasha, untying the shirt-rope from the balcony railing.

“Uh-huh. Do you reckon Clint’s still down there?” Darcy asked curiously, as Natasha bundled the shirt-rope into her arms.

“I hope so.” Natasha’s expression was vicious. It was sort of intensely attractive. You know, in a terrifying kind of way.

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re really hot when you’re angry?” Darcy blurted, and then slapped herself on the forehead. “Never mind, that just slipped out.”

Natasha looked at Darcy like she’d never seen her before. Before Natasha could say anything Darcy hurried on, changing the subject.

“Anyway, a Bedazzler, it’s an appliance for applying rhinestones, studs, and patches to things,” she said hastily. “How do you think Clint’s going to feel about everything he owns being Bedazzled?”

Natasha was still looking at Darcy strangely, but she smiled.

“I like the way you think,” she told Darcy.

Darcy smiled back.

* * *

When Natasha saw Darcy’s Bedazzler supplies, there was a long silence. Finally, she tilted her head and said carefully,

“That’s a lot of rhinestones.”

“I like to be prepared,” Darcy explained, getting the Bedazzler out of its box and grabbing the bag of rhinestones. “Revenge Bedazzling is the best revenge.”

“You’ve made a habit of this?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow.

“In college they learned not to fuck with me unless they wanted to sparkle like a pretty, pretty princess,” Darcy smirked dangerously. “Everyone agreed that if I were a supervillain, my supervillain name would totally be ‘The Bedazzler.’ Which admittedly doesn’t sound very intimidating, you know, for a supervillain name, but on the other hand it does have a certain pizzazz.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a very strange person?” Natasha asked thoughtfully, brow furrowed as she eyed Darcy.

Darcy shrugged.

“Well yeah, obviously, but in a good way, right?”

“I think so, but I’m still making up my mind,” said Natasha, following Darcy as she walked out of the room and down the hallway towards Clint’s rooms.

“Hey, can you pick this lock?” Darcy asked. “I’d do it, but my hands are full.”

“That sounds like a story,” Natasha commented, pulling a hairpin out of her hair and picking the lock on Clint’s door as Darcy had asked.

“It’s not really an interesting one,” said Darcy. “My uncle was a conman and like, jack-of-all-illegal-trades, and he used to teach me stuff when I was a kid. Only my mom found out what he was doing, and wouldn’t let him visit anymore. Said he was corrupting me. I tried to tell her I was born corrupted, but it didn’t work.”

Natasha was smiling as she finished picking the lock.

“Anyway, let’s go Bedazzle the shit out of Clint’s stuff,” Darcy said resolutely.

“Agreed,” said Natasha.

It took them like an hour and a half to Bedazzle everything Clint owned, right down to the covers of the trashy romance books hidden under his bed.

(“The Captain’s Rebellious Bride,” Darcy read the title of one aloud. “Clint actually reads this stuff?”

“I don’t judge,” said Natasha. “Much.”

“Look at that, I’m pretty sure that is a genuine Fabio-inspired cover illustration,” said Darcy, holding the book up so that Natasha could see. “Hey, so does that mean you don’t read romance, then?”

“I prefer dorky sci-fi novels,” said Natasha, which further endeared her to Darcy.)

At the end of that time, though, Darcy was able to mentally congratulate them on a job well done: the room was filled with sparkly, shiny things, and she could already imagine Clint’s howl of anguish.

“There we go,” she said with satisfaction. “I think we did a pretty good job. We make a good team.”

Natasha’s gaze flickered sideways.

“I wouldn’t disagree,” she said quietly. She was watching Darcy with an expression that Darcy found difficult to interpret, but for some reason, it made Darcy nervous.

“So,” said Darcy, shifting from one foot to another, “do you –”

“How do you feel about going to dinner sometime?” Natasha asked.

“–think Clint’s gonna – wait, what?”

“I asked if you’d like to have dinner with me sometime,” Natasha repeated, a slight smile playing about her lips.

“You mean like a date?” Darcy couldn’t believe it. “Hell yes!”

Natasha’s smile widened a little.

“Good,” she said. “Meet you in the common area on Friday at six-thirty?”

“Absolutely,” Darcy said, feeling a little dazed.

“I’ll see you then,” said Natasha, aiming one last smile at Darcy. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to see if any of my shirts are salvageable.”

“You can keep the _Terminator_ one, if you want,” Darcy blurted. “Since, you know, it suits you.”

“Thanks,” Natasha said.

Darcy waited until Natasha left the room before she punched the air.

“Yes! I’m going on a date with the hottest woman ever!” she whisper-shrieked.

Beaming, Darcy left Clint’s quarters carrying her Bedazzler and what was left of her depleted rhinestone stash.

“Best day ever,” Darcy decided aloud.

 


End file.
